Tire Swing

  A child is placed upon a swing
(He’s never been on one before)
  And fear turns into joy, because
  He feels like he is flying —

  He stretches back upon the rope,
(He wants, he thinks, to touch the clouds)
  He needs no coach encouraging
  For him to keep on trying —

  When, finally, he jumps, he finds
  He didn’t land that well at all,
  But that brief second in the air
  Is worth again pursuing —

  We cannot fly, but we can jump.
  But it’s okay we have to land:
  For it’s what happens in-between
  That makes it all

  Worth doing

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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